All posts by Joe

Joe Perry is co-founder of the band Big Green and brother to Matt Perry, other co-founder of Big Green. Shall I go on?

Home base.

Wait, I didn’t hear that last bit. Are you saying that we can’t even get in the front door let alone the living quarters? What the fuck. Where is that Goldilocks Planet again? Cygnus?

Oh, hi. Well, we have made our triumphant return to planet Earth, our somewhat disapproving mother, having completed Interstellar Tour 2014 in support of our latest album, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. And as any of you who travel in interstellar space know all too well, when you get back from a long journey, typically you find that everything has gone to hell in your absence. It’s a severe disincentive to traveling, I can tell you. But what’s the alternative? Hole up in a leaky hammer mill all winter? Not a chance.

Big Green’s loaner rocket touched down in Central New York around 1:00 a.m local time on Thursday, only to find that someone had changed the padlock on the gate to the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, where we have made our home for the past decade or two (because, as Frank Zappa said, all of the bands live together). Different lock, for sure – unlike the old one, this one works, and none of us had the key, so we sent Marvin (my personal robot assistant) over to the local constabulary and asked for assistance. (Marvin was promptly arrested for impersonating a robot, which seems unjust and vaguely insulting.)

A tense scene unfolds inside the hammer millOkay, turns out, someone moved into the Hammer Mill during our absence, and they don’t seem eager to relinquish their squatter’s rights in deference to our own. What’s worse is that they appear to be affiliated with that rancher out in Nevada – what’s his name again? You know – that dude that has been grazing his cattle for free on federal land, owes about a million dollars in back grazing fees, and got together a posse of sorts to take up arms and fight off the Bureau of Land Management. The folks in the mill, well … they’re kind of like the Led Zeppelin tribute band version of those Nevada militia dudes. They got the hats, they got the pickup trucks, and … crucially … they got the guns.

Just trying to negotiate entry right now without getting my hair parted by a 30-30 rifle round. That Goldilocks Planet is looking better all the time. I wonder if they have the extraterrestrial equivalent of QE2 up there.

Unopposed.

Do we live in a democracy? Formally speaking, yes, if by democracy you mean representative democracy and, for most races, one person, one vote. But an election truly democratic if an incumbent runs unopposed? What choice is there but to assent or remain at home? That is the reality for a significant number of communities across the country, including my own. Our Congressman, Richard Hanna, will not face a Democratic opponent this fall. The county Democratic party has said they could not find anyone willing to run. What that tells me is, they likely could not find a millionaire, because after losing to the G.O.P. twice, the national Democratic party is probably not willing to drop another thin dime on this district.

Permanent fixture?That has been the situation here over very long stretches of time, including every election throughout my youth, but there have been exceptions. One was the election of 2006, when our longtime Republican Congressman Sherry Boehlert retired. The national Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee saw an opportunity in what seemed like (and turned out to be) a Democratic-leaning year. They poured some significant resources into this district in support of the local D.A. at the time, Michael Arcuri. I worked on the campaign, manning the phone bank, and it was unlike anything I had seen short of a presidential campaign. They leased a building (an old restaurant) and set up a VOIP phone system with about 20 workstations. They sent a very sharp team of consultants to manage the ground game. It was a pretty impressive effort, and it succeeded, electing the first Democrat to that seat since well before my arrival on this planet.

Needless to say, the largess did not survive that election year. During Arcuri’s re-election campaign in 2008, the phone bank was in a cramped union headquarters in downtown Utica.  I used my cell phone for calls some nights. He got over the line just barely that year, apparently without significant investment on the part of the national party, only to be knocked off in the deluge of 2010, the consequences of which vex us still. Token opposition from a sadly underfunded  Democratic candidate ended in predictable failure to unseat Hanna last year, and now the DCCC has likely written this district off. So we’re stuck with a supposed moderate who sends me flyers on his efforts to protect the “2nd Amendment” against background checks, on his battle against “Obamacare”, and other clap-trap collateral handed to him by his much more generous national party.

So, hey … nothing to see here. Welcome to the one-party state that is Central New York … or as Schumer has dubbed it, “Silicon Valley of the Drones.”

luv u,

jp

Dwarfed ambitions.

Interstellar Tour Log: April 10, 2014
On the surface of Dwarf Planet 2012 VP.

That’s it. I am officially declaring our Interstellar Tour over and done with. I’m sick of these stupid slug lines reminding people where the hell we are all the time. Also, we’ve simply run out of places to play here on Dwarf Planet 2012 VP. That’s likely because, aside from a few street-corner fried plantain vendors, there is virtually no commerce here. This planetoid is devoid of performance venues. We actually set up and jammed in a nearby crater just on the off chance that random extraterrestrials would happen upon us. Nothing. Not a sausage.  This is just like back home.

Ah, home. The sainted abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. It’s leaky roof, its moldy basement, its crumbling walls, its heaps of abandoned hammer parts and random knobs of discarded pig iron that I keep tripping over even after having squatted there for more than a decade. I miss that dump, and I’m not alone in that sentiment. Hell, even Marvin (my personal robot assistant) looked a little misty yesterday as he scrolled through photos of the mill on his laptop. Lincoln seems like a man without a rostrum. The mansized tuber, well … he’s a plant. Don’t expect a lot of overt sentiment out of him.

That's the ticket!So, yeah, after months in space, we are ready to take the long trip home, back from the Ort Cloud, back from hastily named space rocks that are hard to classify. Before we go, though, we want to leave a stake in the ground here on Dwarf Planet 2012 VP. My thought is, well, let’s name the sucker after ourselves. Let’s claim it for Big Green, well and truly. We could be subtle about it and just shift the name to 2012 BG. Or we could go all-out and call it Big Greenland (though I was reserving that for a future theme park). We’ve got friends at NASA … I’m guessing this is do-able. (And yes, we have to ask for permission, since we need telemetric data from the space agency to find our way back to the mill.)

Homeward bound, chaps!

Race talk.

Okay, so why is a middle-aged white dude writing about race? Mostly because I experience it more from the perspective of the oppressor than the oppressed. A funny thing happens sometimes when I am alone amongst white folks – they occasionally say openly racist things, and they say them with the confidence of someone who is amongst his/her own kind; people who share their prejudices, and will likely concur with their grisly sentiments. I don’t believe I’m unique in this regard – I have to think that a lot of white people have this same experience.

Higgerson family reunionSo sure, I smirk a bit when I hear people opine that racism is dead and that the legacy of slavery and Jim Crow is behind us. Though it seems a little retrograde, I suspect racism is not only alive and well but concentrated amongst those of us north of age thirty, with generally increasing intensity as you climb the ladder of age; so, the average 70-year-old white person is more bigoted than the average 35-year-old. (The current under-thirty generation is probably the least bigoted ever with regard to race, nationality, sex, sexual orientation, you name it. That, more than anything else, gives me hope.)

I’m in my fifties, and I can tell you that if it hadn’t been for my vehemently anti-racist mother (thankfully still amongst us), my fair-minded working-class father,  and my very cool elder siblings, I would likely have been as racist as some of the people I’ve known over the years. Throughout my youth, all of the external inputs were negative. Schoolmates were almost ubiquitously white racists, particularly in New Hartford, where there were no people of color whatsoever. Some of my teachers were openly racist, particularly my third grade teacher in New Hartford, Mrs. Higgerson, who used the n-word as a show-and-tell item. (My junior high school swimming teacher, recently departed, once cautioned me that if his generation hadn’t won WWII, “you would have slanted eyes right now;” no lie. He was lecturing me for wearing a “Solidarity with Indochina” button, apparently unaware that the Viet Minh (precursor to the Hanoi government) fought the Japanese during the big one.)

So … with respect to racism, like most non-racist white folks I’ve whistling past the Klan meeting pretty much all my life. Just thought it was worth saying on this anniversary of the Civil Rights Act. We have a ways to go, folks.

luv u,

jp

Inside the April podcast.

Interstellar Tour Log: April 3, 2014
On the surface of Dwarf Planet 2012 VP.

Still out here in Ort Cloud land, taking a bit of a break before heading back home to see what condition the Cheney Hammer Mill is in since our departure some ten weeks ago. (Lawn probably needs cutting.) While I’m reclining in a hammock, waiting for Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to deliver my next High Ball on a silver tray, this seems like a good time to tick through some of the highlights on our brand new March …. I mean, April THIS IS BIG GREEN podcast. Or is it March? Well … no matter.

Anywho, here it is:

Ned Trek XVII – The Romney Syndrome
It looks so realWho would have guessed that we would have made it to the 17th episode of this monthly audio mash-up of classic Star Trek, Mr. Edd, and the 2012 Republican National Convention? Not I. Even so, this episode (introduced as always by Lee Majors) is a riff on the classic series episode, the Paradise Syndrome – Captain Romney bumps his head in a stone outhouse on an alien world, loses his memory, and goes all native CEO on the cigar-store Native American stereotypes who inhabit this television paradise. Oh, and the Nixon android has a zero-gravity tryst with an automated mining vessel.  (You … kind of have to listen to it. )

This month’s Ned Trek features no less than six new Big Green songs, written to move the ponderous plot along. They include:

My Masterpiece
Richard Pearle’s neocon ode to the merits of his greatest work, the Iraq war.

Space is the Devil
Chief Engineer Welsh sings this sea chanty to caution Mr. Ned against engaging the warp drive engines. A stunning performance. (I’m still stunned. Bring me another high ball!)

I Place You First
This is the sick little song a love-struck Nixon android sings to the Halliburton mining vessel before he, well … docks with it. Androids will be androids.

This Horse’s Sense
Mr. Ned laments the stupidity of his human comrades in his signature style.

Happy and Peaceful Here
Romney’s song about finding his way through his idyllic life on the surface of Nobodelcarus, where he has become Chief Financial Officer in his amnesiac state.

Lies from the Pit of Hell
Doc Coburn’s rocker about his personal hero, Congressman Paul Broun of Georgia (and of the Middle Ages).

That’s the show. Hope you enjoy it as much as I’m enjoying this hammock.

For the money.

So the Reagan/Bush/Bush-appointed reactionary majority on the Supreme Court came down on the side of the mega-Rich in their McCutcheon decision. There‘s a big surprise. They’re just doing what they were hired to do – help the rich tip the scales of justice against the rest of us. Now Shelly Adelson can give the maximum donation to every candidate for every office in the country, from President of the United States to Town Council member of Taberg, NY,  and still have money left over from his weekly allowance to buy a spectacular night on the town. (Not Taberg, of course.)

Big sack of money wins againOnce again, thank you, George W. Bush, for locking in this reactionary Supreme Court majority for the rest of my natural life. It’s the gift that keeps on giving, like the Iraq war (motto: killing people from Fallujah to Fort Hood since 2003). So we should expect more of this sort of thing; ultimately, I am sure, the remaining flaccid constraints on the outright purchase of our elections by billionaires will be condemned as violations of “speech” and stripped away. McCutcheon was delivered with the same Panglossian assurances offered in Citizens United that, in essence, the market will govern itself. We’ve seen where that goes.

In truth, though, money in politics – outside of plain bribery – is only as effective as we allow it to be. Its main power is in the purchase of advertising, so it crucially relies on our susceptibility to marketing. We can counteract all of Adelson’s and the Kochs’ billions by simply not being gullible, by standing up and voting, by organizing, and by exercising those formal constitutional rights that haven’t yet been excised in service to corporate power. This isn’t easy, but it is possible. Ask anyone who has lived through an oppressive regime – they’ll tell you that people just assume what they’re being told is bullshit. We can do the same thing. We can make their billions worthless. (We saw a small demonstration of that in 2012.)

Let’s do it again this year. Let’s devalue their advantage. It’s the only way out of this mess, frankly.

luv u,

jp

THIS IS BIG GREEN: March 2014


Big Green nearly gives March a miss and hurls itself headlong into April with Ned Trek 17, six new songs, and some incoherent muttering. Out like a lamb!

This is Big Green – March 2014. Features: 1) Ned Trek XVII: The Free Enterprise Syndrome, including six new Big Green songs; 2) Put the Phone Down: A capella song to greet April; 3) Faces of fools; 4) Obama’s speech to European youth (now with more irony); 5) Song: Special Kind of Blood, by Big Green; 6) Joe’s first (and second) bass; 7) Big Green’s live performance days: some tall tales; 8) Time for us to go

New Songs: (1) My Masterpiece; (2) Space is the Devil; (3) I Place You First; (4) This Horse’s Sense; (5) Happy and Peaceful Here; (6) Lies from the Pit of Hell

Claiming the veep.

Interstellar Tour Log: March 25, 2014
Out in the Ort Cloud neighborhood.

Big GreenHear that click? That was the sound of our spaceship doors locking. This Ort Cloud is a rough neighborhood, so best not to take any chances … now on the last leg of our Interstellar Tour 2014, which we undertook to boost sales of our latest album, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. A dubious endeavor, to be sure, but one worth at least a thimble of sweat, and we have certainly given it that – with the exception, of course, of Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who is incapable of perspiration. (Smoke comes out of that sucker, but only when it’s very hot.)

Anyway, we’re taking a brief diversion from our tour schedule to lay claim to the recently discovered deep space object known simply as 2012 VP (or “Biden”), a dwarf planet in a very wide orbit around the sun, way out here in Ort-ville. Hey, so what the hell, we’re staking out our claim, by virtue of the Extraterrestrial Homesteaders Act of 2047, which technically hasn’t been enacted yet … unless you are a time traveler, of course. Not saying we are, but we could be … and we have known a few in our time. Trevor James Constable, for instance. But I digress.

Interstellar Tour Log: March 28, 2014
On the surface of Dwarf Planet 2012 VP.

I claim the Veep for Big GreenRocky landing. We weren’t here five minutes before someone got the idea of sending Marvin out there to plant the Big Green flag – the one friend of the band Leif Zurmuhlen made for us back in the day. Hey, well … it’s a little icy out there, so Marvin took a couple of tumbles before finding a spot flat enough to accommodate a flag on a stick. There’s no atmosphere to speak of, so we asked him to hold the free end of the flag while we snapped a picture or two. When we get those back from the pharmacy on Neptune, we’ll share them with you? (Yes, another episode of Luddites in space.)

Okay, so … this is an open invitation to come and visit us on what I’m calling Dwarf Planet BG 2014. Take that, NASA.

Boots on the ground.

I won’t waste any breath on much of what’s happened in politics this week … that Hobby Lobby suit before the Supreme Court has got me hopping mad, but I’ll hold that for another week while I take the President to task for his speech to “European youth” about the Crimean crisis. One particular passage is very worthy of attention:

Russia has pointed to America’s decision to go into Iraq as an example of Western hypocrisy. Now, it is true that the Iraq War was a subject of vigorous debate not just around the world, but in the United States as well. I participated in that debate and I opposed our military intervention there. But even in Iraq, America sought to work within the international system. We did not claim or annex Iraq’s territory. We did not grab its resources for our own gain. Instead, we ended our war and left Iraq to its people and a fully sovereign Iraqi state that could make decisions about its own future.

Laugh away.

Here, Barry seems to be saying that it’s all right to ignore the clear will of the UN Security Council (and General Assembly) and invade another country, so long as eight years later you leave what’s left of them to sort out their political future ( this after their refusing to sign off on a status of forces agreement we were pushing for). It’s as if the dubious notion that we had a “vigorous debate” (perhaps in the street, but certainly not in the mass media) prior to starting the Iraq War somehow makes up for the fact that we went into that country on obviously false pretenses, over the objections of major allies and partners, including Russia.

That was bad enough. But just the fact that we are comparing Russia’s incursion into Crimea (death toll: less than ten, to greatly exaggerate the actual number) unfavorably with our attack on Iraq (death toll: hundreds of thousands, with fratricidal violence still killing thousands a year long after our exist) is craven beyond belief. He didn’t even mention the continuing conflict in Afghanistan. Small omission.

Finally, the resource point is a red herring. We didn’t go into Iraq to “grab its resources for our own gain”, though how that fact makes us virtuous is beyond me. Still, if Iraq’s main export was chicken wings, we would never have been there. It isn’t about stealing the oil; it’s about having a say in where it goes and where it doesn’t go. That’s as old as the American empire, and twice as thick.

Russia is a bad actor, no denying it, but we are far worse. Before we start condemning them for mustering their soldiers within their own borders, we might consider pulling ours out of the scores of countries where they are stationed, all around the world.

luv u,

jp

Sickening.

Interstellar Tour Log: March 18, 2014
Planet #74 in NASA list. Near Aldebaran.

Yes, Big Green is still out here, on our massive Interstellar Tour in support of Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick, still picking our way through the dross of NASA’s list of 715 planets yet to be explored, blah blah blah. Not the best time to leave your mad science adviser back on Earth. I sure hope Mitch Macaphee is enjoying his time on the beaches of Madagascar or wherever that mad science conference is being held. Frankly, we could use his help.

Need thisThe fact that most of these strange worlds have been featured in American movies and television shows from the 1950s and 60s is little help when you’re trying to determine the precise composition (and toxicity level) of a greenish atmosphere. Sure, you can have that kind of trouble back home, in South Carolina or West Virginia … but at least down there you have your pick of mad scientists. Up here, we’ve got Marvin (my personal robot assistant) and his converted wall barometer.

This planet is one of the ones the Robinsons of Lost in Space fame visited. Not quite sure which, since they all looked essentially the same. (One was called Preplanis, I think, right? But then that one blew up.) In any case, no one to perform for … not even a giant talking chicken. Moving on …

Interstellar Tour Log: March 20, 2014
Planet #526 in NASA list. Edge of the Milky Way Galaxy

Big GreenHuh. Thought I just saw Neil DeGrasse Tyson fly by in a strange looking spacecraft. Can’t be. Anyway, we may be at the end of the road here, my friends. Everyone is sick of this tour, including Marvin, the mansized tuber (who’s just been sulking in his terrarium all day long), both Lincolns, and even sFshzenKlyrn, who has more than once taken advantage of his ability to skip between dimensions and simply vanished from sight for hours at a time. It’s a little unnerving when you’re onstage in front of a crowd of tiny robots from the planet Industro and you nod to your guitarist to take a solo, and he’s in another freaking dimension. (Perhaps the Fifth Dimension, in which case he would have to learn some harmony parts pronto.)

Great googly-moogly, as they say in the vernacular. We’re sick of this shit. Next stop, terra firma … I think.